A Mutual Acquaintance
by KrisEleven
Summary: Sarai has just eloped; travelling with her husband to a land she knows nothing about. Kally has spent the past year feeling out of place in her husband's empire. The two women have more in common than they could ever have guessed.
1. Chapter 1

A/N This is going to be a multi-chapter fic exploring Sarai and Kally's lives in Carthak. Hopefully you will all enjoy it! Thanks to everyone who looked it over for me in the long, long, long process of writing. Special thanks to LunaSphere and Sweet Sassy Sarah who helped me put it together and polish it up. **Edited: 10/16/10**

* * *

Sarai was wary of royalty.

Growing up as a noble in the Rittevon's court, it was no great surprise, no great shock. Her husband – she still grinned to think the word – assured her that the Emperor of Carthak and his Empress were not the type of people that she would need to fear. They ruled fairly, without violence against those who served them. Sarai knew that Emperor Kaddar was Zaimid's friend; Sarai and Zaimid had spent all their time on the ship heading south getting to know each other as they hadn't been able to while being watched by chaperones in Rajmuat. She could picture the boy and man Kaddar had been, featured in so many of the tales Zaimid had told her of his life before the Copper Isles.

But still, her stomach tightened with nausea as her maids dressed her for court.

"Everything will be alright," Zaimid soothed. He didn't try to argue, understanding that her anxiety went beyond reasoning. Because even if she accepted that these monarchs were as different from the ones she knew as he assured her they were, she would still have spent her first few days in Zaimid's apartment staring at the royal invitation in panic. What if she hated the court? What if they did not approve of her? What could the Emperor do if he believed that his friend and chief healer had married beneath his station?

Sarai was half-raka, after all.

No, it was nothing to be ashamed of here.

_She had _never_ been ashamed,_ she told herself firmly. She had spent her entire life holding her head high, with dignity, in the face of terrible insults about her very blood and it seemed impossible that it would stop being something she had to defend.

The palace was a strange mix of breath-taking opulence and partial construction. The new palace had not been built on the same grounds as the old ruins, and certain wings of the old palace still stood, abandoned and infested with pests. Zaimid had told her fantastic stories of ancient bones, a Goddess and her rats, and a girl's rage at an Emperor. Once they were settled (once they met the Emperor, he meant, but she refused to think about it anymore than she must), he had promised to take her to the old palace's ruins.

They were guided to the Fireopal Hall, where the large audiences and formal events were held. It was the largest hall in the new palace, and was fashioned after the old throne room of the ruins, with the two thrones at the far end of the hall on a small dais. Small curtained alcoves and doors lined the walls, with cushioned seats or hidden entrances to servants' corridors. They were announced to the room filled with people as the walked through the high, decorated doors. Sarai held her head high as they walked towards the dais, ignoring the stares she and Zaimid received as they walked arm in arm. She was Saraiyu Balitang, the daughter of a Duke and a cousin to royalty, no matter her insecurities. She would not cower. The people and the room itself floated past in a colourful blur.

The Emperor was a dark-skinned young man, darker than Sarai or Zaimid, with glossy black hair. He wore an elaborate Carthaki robe, emerald green silk with gold trim. There was gold on his fingers and neck, which glinted as he leaned forward in his throne to smile as they approached. His Empress sat beside him on a throne that matched her husband's. She wore a gown that covered every bit of skin, but up close, Sarai could see that it was made of lilac silk so fine it was almost sheer. She wore a small veil that didn't hide hair which was as coal-black as her husband's. A chain was woven into the veil and hung onto her forehead, a dark tear-shaped black stone resting on her pale forehead. Her skin seemed fairer and her eyes more brilliantly blue next to her husband's darker complexion.

She was almost breathtakingly beautiful, Sarai realized with a touch of jealousy. She would have been Sarai's competition for every attention had the Empress been born in the Isles rather than Tortall. And parents would have fought for her to marry into their family, not hide their sons from her as they had done with Sarai.

Sarai curtsied deeply as Zaimid bowed beside her. She rose when the Emperor spoke. "My friend," he addressed Zaimid, obviously delighted to see him, "we hope your trip has helped you refine your healing arts and that the Copper Isles managed to capture your attention." Zaimid offered polite assurances while Sarai studied the Emperor's face. "We look forward to being reacquainted with you, as well as meeting your wife, in a private audience tomorrow." He spoke formally, but his smile was authentic, and he put his hand softly on his wife's arm as he extended the invitation, making it less a royal command than a joint wish.

Sarai looked again at the Empress while Zaimid accepted the invitation. For a moment, their eyes met, and Sarai felt a connection. Then she was deep in a curtsy and backing away from the royal presence.

* * *

A/N Reviews are always appreciated. Feel encouraged to point out any mistakes you see or to make suggestions.


	2. Chapter 2

Kalasin, the Empress of Carthak, waited impatiently for the Emperor of Carthak to dress. She had already been prepared for the evening by her attendants, and she and her handmaidens had walked through the antechambers that separated her rooms from those of her husband only to be informed by his guards that he was not yet finished dressing. Now she stood uncomfortably in the sitting room, thinking harshly about his vanity, while her attendants fretted over her gown, jewellery and veil.

"That's enough," she murmured, surprised, as always, when they backed away obediently. She had grown up attended to and court events had meant her being in the public eye at home, but she had still been overwhelmed on her arrival to the Carthaki court. Everything was done with more pomp, more procedure.

Where her father did the winter tours and only held court in season, there were nobles in court in Carthak city at all times of the year and many never returned to their lands to do anything practical at all. Kally was used to helping her mother train recruits in the spring, to caring for her horse, to organizing Rider patrol routes with her Aunt Buri, to working with all of the palace healers, and to helping her Uncle Gary with paperwork in his offices. She had waited patiently through the endless courtesies of the first month – the bowing and scraping, the grand banquets, the elaborate wardrobe and makeup and jewellery, the entertainers and magics and expensive trips – until she realized that this was not a celebration of her arrival, this was how they _lived_ and she was so homesick for the quiet practicality of Tortall that she almost ran to the ocean shore where she could smuggle herself onto a merchant ship the way Liam said Numair had done all those years ago.

Instead, she spent hours learning protocol she was still unaware of, even though she had had months of lessons in Tortall. The palace and its grounds were enormous, and more extravagant than anything she had grown up with. Every member of the court was bejewelled, both in jewellery and in their finest clothing, and she was expected to be the centerpiece of it all. She shifted, her gown sighing as the silk moved like water against her skin and the tiny gemstones sewn in patterns on the cloth clinked softly. She dressed in the Carthaki style when she was in public, a small concession to the Southern conservatives. A small concession, perhaps, she reflected, but one which had joined all the others until she was not sure who was ruling whom

She had always known what duty meant: that she would have to give things up for the good of her country. She had been taught it too well, her gods-mother had complained to her mother while she was within earshot, when they were discussing her betrothal.

Carthak would have been unbearable in those first few months if she had been sent to anyone but Kaddar. At the beginning, they had hidden behind formalities, but a compliment on the palace's construction led to stories of Daine, of how she had beat Kaddar and all of his friends at archery and destroyed an entire palace in her rage, and of the way she had met Kally during a siege, where she became a young princess's hero for her animals and her bravery. Then they were sharing childhood memories and old dreams (he didn't doubt she would have succeeded when she told him she had wanted to be a knight, and she didn't laugh when he told her he had cried when he had first understood what being Emperor would mean). Before she realized it was happening, they were more than Emperor and Empress; they were husband and wife, and they were friends.

Kaddar walked from his dressing room, smiling ruefully to see that she had managed to be dressed before him (again). Kally kissed him, quickly, on the cheek when he reached her. Their attendants smiled and their guards pretended not to notice.

On her throne, Kally watched the court and Kaddar's nobles (because they were not hers, not yet). They were like butterflies, she decided. Or dragonflies hovering on the edges of the lakes at home, with flashing wings. They moved between groups gossiping and laughing, with their bright beautiful clothing and their precious stones flashing in the mage-lights. When they danced, all Kally could do was lean back in her throne and watch in wonder, even now, after so many times of seeing it.

There was no dancing yet this evening. They were greeting newcomers to court, those nobles who actually worked on their lands and only presented themselves to court in season. Kally smiled as they were announced and her husband welcomed these new strangers to court. Then there was a blessedly familiar face – Zaimid, returned from the Isles at last. She had missed his presence at court, had missed his familiarity where the others treated her with the distance of strangers unsure of how to relate to her. She had missed how he used her skill and Gift in his healing ward at the university just as if she weren't an Empress. Most of all, she had missed him looking after her husband, because he was the only one besides herself who saw what the stress and the hard work of the last six years had done to Kaddar.

His wife was introduced as Saraiyu, and Kally watched her from the corner of her eye as her husband spoke. She was a beauty, with the gorgeous copper tones of a half-raka and delicate features. Her hair and clothing was in the style of the Carthaki court, which Kally attributed to Zaimid's mother, who had presented herself at court almost immediately after the news of the elopement and her son's return to Carthak had reached Kaddar. Kalasin had met the Zaimid's mother just once and was equally charmed and terrified by the thin black woman. She had the habit of expecting perfection, and was not afraid of correcting and instructing in a quick, firm tone that left no question that it was to be obeyed.

_Not that she behaved that way to me_, Kally thought while secretly wishing the woman who reminded her of home _had._

Sarai held herself like one used to court, with a polite expression that held her fear and awkwardness in check in all but her dark, expressive eyes.

Kally felt a sudden connection with this woman, close to her age, brought to this overwhelming court with her husband, for the love that was obvious in the way they stood together, in the way she looked at him.

After court, when they had both been readied for the night in their own chambers and Kaddar had walked through their adjoining rooms to join her in bed, Kally sat on his lap with his arms around her and they talked about Zaimid and the woman he had, unexpectedly, brought back from the Isles.

"You've missed him," Kally said, hearing the happiness with which Kaddar spoke of their private meeting the next day.

He agreed readily. "He was one of my first friends when I moved to the old palace, to be readied as heir. He's one of the only people in court who sees me, truly, and that I can trust completely." He kissed the top of her head to include her in that number.

Kally smiled. "Saraiyu seems interesting. She has… a spark that reminds me of home. I am excited to meet her properly."

She thought that the beautiful girl had the same fierce determination that she had not seen in any of the ladies of this court. The determination to make their own lives, however that may be, and to prove that they are capable of anything. They were taught early to hide that, the women here and while Kally had known it made her angry she hadn't recognized her loneliness until tonight.

She reflected sadly until her husband shifted her so their lips could meet. She smiled then, thoughts of being lonely erased.


	3. Chapter 3

Sarai sat in her new house – a one-story apartment in the rich district of the capital. She was in a small sitting room, wooden framed but with sheer white cloth instead of walls, so that she could look out onto the small garden and walls of the property. Sarai was used to heat in Rajmuat, but not the dry oppression of the desert and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She found the loss of humidity pleasant, but it was a constant reminder that she was not at home.

There were other reminders. She had never seen camels before and though she had learned about, seeing them fill the streets instead of horses was a constant (and often unpleasant) shock. The lack of vegetation had unnerved her when she first arrived; it had seemed like the land would go on forever without the trees to block the view, until they got into the city and the sand-coloured buildings took on the role of hemming in the horizon. The air smelt different, too – odd spices in unfamiliar combinations at mealtimes, sand in the air when a wind blew through the streets. She couldn't describe what rain smelled like, but she missed that smell all the same.

Sarai brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She noticed the poverty, the beggars on the street, the poor housing, but it didn't fill her with the stomach-wrenching despair and frustration as it had in the Isles. They weren't her people, of course, but Zaimid had also told her of the changes since Kaddar had taken the throne; the reduction of the army and taxes, the end of the famine, a slow drop in slavery. Here, there was hope, which was more than she had ever seen at home and it made everything else bearable.

Thinking of the Isles brought her thoughts to her family, and to the mess she had left them in.

_I could not stay there. Not even for them._

She knew they would not understand. Winnamine and Aunt Nuritin would think only of the family honour, not of her happiness and not of what marrying a child – _that _child – would do to her. Dove was too far removed and too sensible to understand that the heart had to come first, sometimes. Sarai thought even Aly would have disapproved.

She sighed, trying to draw herself out of her depression. Zaimid was at one of the hospitals for the morning. He would return in time for their meeting with the Emperor and Empress, but until then she was left alone.

She stood suddenly, nervous again at the thought of the private audience. Last night had gone well, better than she had dared hope. After their introduction to the royal couple there had been little to do but enjoy the court. Sarai had soaked in the lavish surroundings. No stranger to opulence, even she was impressed by the intricate clothing, the layers of jewellery. The Emperor had risen and circled the room, talking to his nobles, but had not spoken to Zaimid and Sarai again. Zaimid introduced her to several members of the court.

She had been surprised to see Zaimid move seamlessly between very different groups of people. He was comfortable with those Dove had called 'the uselesses' – the young courtiers with nothing better to do than to flirt and gossip and boast, and get away with as much as their chaperones (as sharp here as in the Isles) would allow. He visited with the academics, noble students he had taken classes with in the University and his old professors. Everywhere they went, Zaimid was welcomed home and Sarai was greeted; whether it was sincere or not depended on the group. The older nobles, who had been friends with his father or were acquaintances of his mother, did not greet her at all, but thumped Zaimid on the back or shoulder while looking at her appraisingly and speaking rapid Carthaki.

The younger groups luckily spoke Common and they ended with a group Sarai could understand and Zaimid seemed most comfortable with. She toyed with her glass and let the conversation go on without her, thinking of a time when she had been the centre of every conversation, when she had been confident enough to command attention.

Was the move between countries responsible for her loss of confidence? Or was it her move into married life?

She shook her head, forcing her thoughts away from the night before, from the court back to her new home. The apartment was silent. She knew that there were servants, as there were always servants, but in Carthak they wore cloth slippers and were trained to walk and perform their duties without a sound.

Her mother-in-law and sister-in-law, Mai, were out for the day at the market, or visiting with their acquaintances in the city. Sarai had been surprised by their presence in the apartment when she and Zaimid had arrived (so had Zaimid, although he admitted later that he should have known). The older woman claimed, with the certainty with which she said everything, that Sarai could not be brought to court without a woman's guidance, and she could not be brought into the family with only her new husband to greet her. Zaimid bowed to her decision. Sarai wasn't sure whether or not to be grateful or terrified.

The house felt empty without the little noises of life. She sighed loudly, to fill the space, but somehow it only served to make the silence grow in contrast when the noise died away. Sarai walked into the shadows of the house. Suddenly, she needed to ride.

The guardroom was on the other side of a small courtyard and as she entered there was a burst of movement, the guards standing in her presence. "Somebody ready a horse," she ordered. She held her hair off her sticky neck as they rushed to obey.

* * *

Kally _had_ to get outside. Summer in Carthak was something she knew she would never get used to, no matter how long she ended up living in the desert empire. She sat very still in her chair listening to the report from a dry conservative who seemed only to speak of what she could not do. She had found within a week of arriving that if she fanned herself, even idly, a slave would jump forward with a palm leaf. It had made her so uncomfortable that she refused to show she was affected by the heat. So she sat still, hot and sticky, and tried to concentrate.

After the report was through, she nodded at the conservative and his assistants' bows and swept from the room with her attendants, relishing the air flow.

"When's my next appointment?" she asked, smiling when one of her ladies replied that she had two hours until she was needed again. "Send word to the stables," she said to her guards. "I am going for a ride."

One of them sent a message to the stables while she went back to her rooms to change into riding clothes. She had agreed to avoid breeches, but riding was the one place where she put her foot down and demanded Tortall-style riding skirts. Kaddar had agreed that the south wouldn't go to war if she wore the looser and higher skirts while she rode, as long as she didn't start arriving to court on a horse.

Her attendants managed to quickly find one of her old dresses that matched her hair and jewellery, since she refused to let them take the time to redo her hair to coordinate. They sighed, as if they were hard-pressed, and Kally hid her smile.

When she had first arrived she had barely been able to stand their presence. They had knelt when they entered the room she was in, curtsied deeply when she so much as glanced in their direction and had used her full title every time they spoke. This meant it took hours to get even the simplest tasks done and she had threatened Kaddar on multiple occasions that she would dismiss them all and do it herself, no matter what those Southern conservatives had to say. Slowly, though, they had relaxed and they were almost at the point where she could _talk_ to them.

They walked through the palace and across a courtyard to the stables. She smiled as soon as she made it into the shady barn, breathing deeply. The stable hands bowed, of course, but they also grinned and called out greetings. This was her sanctuary away from the demands of palace life, and she spent as much time here as possible.

"Haidea today, Your Majesty?" one of the stablehands asked, referring to the mare Zaimid had given to her when she had first arrived. He had admitted, later, that Daine had sent a letter recommending the gift, since Kally couldn't bring her own horse across the sea from Tortall. Kally had instantly fallen in love with the mare he had chosen for her. Haidea was a loving creature, always happy to see Kally enter the stables, and in the first few months of her marriage she had needed that love, and the reminder of home, desperately.

"Please, Shalum, I'll saddle her. Can you also ready some horses for my attendants? Some even-tempered ones. I'm going to ride into the city today."

Kally went into her horse's stall, taking time to pat down the chestnut mare before putting on the saddle. She chatted to the mare and fed her the treats she had brought. Kally could feel the peace settle over her. Just then, in the stall with her mare, she could almost believe she was in Tortall. When she emerged, her servants were already waiting in the courtyard and she mounted and rode towards the gates, her guards and women ringing her.

Kally stopped their group for a moment, looking over the roads before deciding to ride through the richer parts of Carthak city. She didn't have much time for her ride, and the poorer areas of the city had streets that were more crowded and much narrower, meaning it would take longer to get anywhere with her large group of attendants and guards before having to turn back.

As they rode through the streets, commoner servants and nobles bowed to her. She talked to the ones she recognized and smiled at those she didn't. Kaddar, jokingly, called this her gracious-Empress face. It was what they expected and so it was what she gave them, without any real personality she held. They would be shocked to see her work as she had at home, or laugh like her mother, or fight like the women in her family… Everything she grew up with was off limits. And so, she smiled.

Watching the people, content just to be moving towards the breeze coming off the harbor, she saw another large group and smiled a true smile when she recognized Saraiyu. The young woman was staring at her horse, her face set in what looked like a contrary expression. She was dressed in what Kally recognized as Copper Isles luarin-style dress. Saraiyu looked up, startled, as her guard shifted to the side of the road to allow Kally and her guard room to pass. Saraiyu bowed from her saddle when she met Kally's eye

Kally slowed and stopped her horse and everyone else followed suit. "It is a lovely day for a ride, Lady Saraiyu," she called through the guards.

Saraiyu nodded a polite agreement. After they assured each other in good health the conversation stalled. "Let us not block the street," Kally said, smiling. "We will see you in our audience in, oh, a few hours, I suppose." Saraiyu bowed again and Kally rode on, disappointed. She didn't know what she expected, but a conversation just like the others she was forced to endure in court was not it.


	4. Chapter 4

"Why are you pouting?"

"I am not pouting, Zaimid."

"Sarai, you look beautiful."

Sarai turned from her mirror and rolled her eyes at her husband, who was lounging in the doorway. She was dressed for their audience, but instead of walking downstairs and leaving with her husband she was watching her reflection as the light faded. Her maids had done a good job – her eyes were lightly kohled, her hair was pinned in a Carthaki fashion (although she had made them leave off the veil) and her dress was a beautiful wedding present, a light material the colour of rich amber. She wasn't worried about her appearance.

Zaimid walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She continued looking into her own eyes in the glass, but could see that he was studying her reflection.

"Why _aren't_ you pouting?"

"I don't want to go!" Sarai burst out, turning around so she could put her face against his chest. She couldn't explain the constant fear of Rajmuat, how entire families could disappear on the whim of a king everyone _knew_ was insane. Growing up noble in the Copper Isles meant a constant, exhausting alertness. While she knew, intellectually, that this Emperor would not have them murdered for their marriage, her body still reacted with panic at the thought of meeting him. She couldn't help it; it was engrained in her. "I don't want to go meet them, I just don't want to go to another palace and deal with more royals and I'm scared, Zaimid. Don't make me go."

"All right." She looked up at him in shock. He was looking down at her, concerned but not angry, as she expected him to be. He smiled slightly at her expression and lifted his hand to rub her cheek. "I'll send a message, Sarai. I'm not going to have you all upset about this. It's fine. We don't have to go and see them. I'll be right back, all right?"

Sarai nodded and he walked from the room. Her cheeks were red at her cowardice. This was something Zaimid was looking forward to – seeing his old friend. She would take away this bit of joy from him because of her fears?

Sarai looked at the mirror one more time, smoothing her gown over her hips. Then she hurried to stop her husband before he cancelled their appointment.

Only a half hour later, Zaimid and Sarai rode into the main courtyard of the palace together, their guards and servants surrounding them. They hadn't spoken on the ride, although every few minutes Zaimid would stop talking to his guards to ride close enough to Sarai to touch her leg or hand in comfort. Sarai tried to think of other things: of her mother, of riding at Tanair, of nights chatting with Dove, of quiet evenings with Zaimid.

The sun was low as they entered the main courtyard. It splashed light down on the dirt in reds and oranges and lit up the palace wall in bright colours and contrasting shadows. Sarai dismounted, closing her eyes against the rising dust as their guards moved away with the stablehands. There were no armed guards other then the Emperor's allowed inside the palace, so Sarai and Zaimid were escorted towards the main doors only by their four servants. As they walked up the wide steps towards the main door Zaimid took Sarai's arm, linking it in his own. She turned to see his smile as they walked into the sudden darkness of the palace.

The Emerald Chamber was one of the smallest of the audience chambers and built for conversation, with comfortable chairs set facing each other. Sarai and Zaimid were shown into the room and served refreshments while they waited for the Royal couple to arrive. Sarai turned a fig over and over in her fingers before Zaimid took it from her and placed it back in the bowl. He grabbed her hand and held onto it. Their servants stood in the corner, becoming part of the shadows of the room as the sun set.

Attendants announced the Emperor and Empress and Zaimid let go of Sarai's hand as they both stood to bow.

* * *

Kally walked into her favorite room with her husband, watching as he informally greeted his friend. Kaddar walked forward with his arms held wide and the two men clapped each other on the back. Kally could see Zaimid's grin. She smiled to see the two men so happy.

Her husband worked tirelessly to keep his empire intact while the southern nobles tried their hardest to usurp him. Kally had found herself increasingly, and surprisingly, protective of him, even before she had realized she loved him. She always tried to preserve his limited moments of peace and happiness; rearranging appointments and taking on extra work herself, scolding overzealous advisors and managing to give him quiet moments. Before he left, Zaimid had been the only one to help her care for him.

Kally looked to the other side of the men to where Saraiyu was standing and saw a smile identical to the one she herself was wearing, the same look of love.

Kaddar laughed, leading his friend to a chair. He held out his hand, smiling, and Kally stepped forward to take it.

"Zaimid," Kally said, warmly. She had a great deal of affection for the healer, the only other person in the palace who would rather see her husband act like a man, and not the Emperor. They both loved him, in their way, and they could only love each other for it. His hospital had become one of her sanctuaries, and he had never shown disapproval or fear of allowing her to actually _use_ her gift at healing, allowing her a link to her past and their friendship had formed from there. She had missed him.

"Empress," he bowed. Kally tugged on the hand she still held, making him laugh.

"He hasn't been overworking, has he?" Zaimid asked her. They both looked at Kaddar who rolled his eyes with an embarrassed smile. He hated when they fussed.

"I've been trying my best," Kally said in a conspiratorial whisper.

"He wouldn't eat, let alone take time to relax if we did not force him into it," Zaimid said to his wife.

"Shall we sit?" Kaddar offered, trying to distract them before they got into a list of his faults. Zaimid and Saraiyu sat in the seats facing the window, Zaimid sitting across from Kaddar, and they broke into conversation. Kally watched Saraiyu out of the corner of her eye. Her smile was charming and she inserted comments into all the right places. She seemed perfectly at ease in this room of strangers. Kally was jealous of her calm.

"How are you adjusting to Carthak?" Kally asked when their husbands began talking of people and events neither Kally nor Saraiyu had ever met or experienced.

"Very well, thank you Your Majesty," she answered. "There are things I miss, of course."

"Me, too," Kally answered, with too much sadness in her voice. She caught herself and forced a smile. "It fades," she assured the younger woman.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

They were distracted briefly by Zaimid's laughter. Kaddar, through his own laughter, was telling a story of something that happened in court while Zaimid had been away.

Kally listened to their quick exchange of other memories and anecdotes they had collected while separated, content to watch and listen rather than take part in their reunion. After a short time, Kally turned back to Saraiyu. Unaware that she was being watched, Saraiyu showed her emotions clearly: her fingers twisted in her lap awkwardly, her foot tapped her impatience, her mouth was set in an unhappy line, but her eyes as she watched her husband showed all of the love Kally felt for Kaddar.

Kally was reminded, suddenly and forcefully, of herself.

"Would you like to ride with me?" Kally asked, impulsively.

Saraiyu looked at her, surprised.

"I saw you riding today and I thought…" Kally paused, collecting herself. She hadn't meant to say it. Her rides were her one moment of solitude; her link to home, where riding had been as natural as breathing. Her attendants and guards, knowing her, didn't expect her to act like the Empress in those brief moments. With Lady Saraiyu, Kally wouldn't be able to act like herself, not in the presence of one of her nobles. And her request left Lady Saraiyu no choice – it was a royal invitation and she would have to assume Kally would be insulted if she declined. Kally sighed inwardly.

"I would be honoured if you would join me on my ride tomorrow morning through the grounds," she offered, politely, because she had no other choice.

Saraiyu bowed from her seat. "I would be delighted, Your Majesty," she replied – the only answer she could give.

They didn't speak for the rest of the evening.


	5. Chapter 5

"The Empress asked you to ride with her. She has always preferred to ride alone," Zaimid said on the ride back from the palace.

"I'm sure it will be lovely," Sarai answered.

She was sure it would be boring. She didn't want to spend her morning making polite conversation. She didn't want to have to watch her expression and her comments. Plus, there were no places to run her horse on palace grounds.

It was probably beneath an Empress's dignity to run, regardless.

Zaimid could see the irritation on her face and thought about telling her that the Empress was not what she appeared to be, with her polite smile and imperial exterior. That she was too kind for her own good, that she had a fighter's spirit, that she escaped on a horse because she had been free, once (if not free, because a member of the Royal family could never be _free_, at least not as claustrophobically hemmed in as she now was), and that she never complained about her captivity as an Empress. But he couldn't think of a diplomatic way to say that their Empress was in no way what their people thought an Empress should be, and so he said nothing.

* * *

"I thought you preferred to ride alone," Kaddar said as they walked towards their private rooms, surrounded by attendants and guards. "Did Lady Saraiyu make that much of an impression on you?"

"I can see why Lord Zaimid would marry her," Kally answered diplomatically.

_Because she's beautiful_, Kally thought, regretting her invitation. _It doesn't seem if there's anything beyond that._


	6. Chapter 6

In accordance with the Empress's instructions, Sarai arrived at the palace's stables with her servants early the next day. Already, it was hot and Sarai was almost happy to join the Empress on her ride; anything to get out of the house that she knew would soon be too stifling to bear.

A servant was waiting for her, and led her into the shade of the stables when she asked. Sarai stood against the wall, just inside the entrance. The stablehands hadn't even noticed her arrival as they called back and forth, threw bundles of feed, carried buckets of water, groomed, argued, swept and mucked. Looking around at all the activity, Sarai wondered how long she would be made to wait; there were no horses being readied for the Empress to ride. Just as she had the thought, Kalasin swept in, surprising Sarai by being alone. Sarai met Kalasin's greeting and polite smile with a deep curtsy.

The Empress of Carthak proceeded to call greetings to the stablehands by name as she walked towards a nearby stall. Sarai moved, almost involuntarily, deeper into the stables.

"Ah, sweet," Kalasin laughed softly as her horse nudged her. The horse took the apple Kalasin held out with a grateful snort. "There we go," she said. As the horse chomped, Kalasin expertly saddled her and led her to where Sarai was waiting. She smiled at Sarai's stare.

"My mother's people worship the Horse Lords," she explained with a smile. "And no one grows up with my parents and extended family without learning to ride."

"The ladies at home all knew how to ride, too, Your Imperial Majesty, but hardly any knew how to care for their horse."

"Until I was eleven, I had every intention of becoming a Lady Knight," Kalasin said with a slightly sad smile. "I learned to saddle and care for my mount when I was six." She realized that she had revealed more than she intended to. The stable and her horse made her forget to be the closed-off Empress at these times. She smiled to offset her slip of personal information and led the way out of the stable. They walked out into the courtyard together, where Kalasin's guards waited, on foot or horse.

With that, the two women rode towards a gateway on the far side of the courtyard, which led into one of the gardens on the royal grounds. Kalasin's words echoed in Sarai's head. She had, somehow, forgotten that the Empress came from Tortall, where women – even princesses, it seemed – were the figures from legends. She wondered what other stories the woman had to share. She remembered, for the first time, that she would have known the _Lioness_.

* * *

Kally's guards stayed behind the ladies, falling back on custom instead of the routine Kally had painstakingly forged with them over the last year. They had become accustomed to her informal way of talking with them during her rides and had proved to be interesting companions, but it was different with this noble addition to their group. Kally wished they hadn't stayed back far enough to give the two women privacy for a conversation, as there was no conversation to be had. Sarai was as unfailingly polite as always, her face holding just the right amount of interest.

Kally had always found politeness to be unbelievably dull.

Kally looked around at the gardens they were riding through – they were wide dirt paths, lined with spicy-scented shrubs and flowering trees. There were many tall plants or trellises to provide shade for the nobles who walked or rode though the garden. Kally nodded a greeting to two guards as she rode past their post.

"The gardens are beautiful, Your Majesty," Sarai said as they continued deeper into the heart of the garden.

Kally looked around and smiled. "Yes, they are as beautiful as anything we have

in Tortall. My husband loves to garden," she said, with a hint of loving pride in her voice. She didn't notice the other woman's surprise as she leaned to pick a small cluster of hanging pink flowers off a nearby tree. "These are my favourites," she said, passing the flowers across the space between their horses. Saraiyu took it gently from her fingertips, lifting it to her nose to smell. She smiled across at Kally. Saraiyu lowered the flowers to her lap, looking down at them.

Kally watched the younger woman bite her lip uncertainly before saying, in a rush, "We had a servant at home who told us stories of the Lioness, but I'm sure you'd know more of them, having actually _met _her…"

Kally laughed at the anticipation on the other girl's face. She had forgotten, with Sarai's pose and steady demeanour that the other woman was six years younger than herself, but it was revealed in her shy smile and rushed enthusiasm.

"Which story would you like to hear?" The responding grin, the feeling and personality it showed, delighted Kally. They fell into discussions of Kally's godmother and finally Kally caught a glimpse of who Zaimid had fallen in love with.


	7. Chapter 7

Sarai was thinking about the ride later that day as she walked out of the temple of Mithros, her arm linked with Zaimid's. She and Kally had exchanged stories about their families and their childhoods and their homes. The Empress of Carthak had proved to have a wicked sense of humour once Sarai had relaxed enough to see the Empress as a woman, not much older than herself.

She moved to walk towards the horses, but Zaimid gave her arm a gentle tug. She looked up to see that the rest of the worshippers were moving towards another temple, further down the path. She glanced at Zaimid questioningly.

"We always visit both Mithros and the Graveyard Hag," he explained. Sarai almost sighed. This was the Emperor's weekly ritual, visiting the palace temples with his court and their attendants. The extravagant show didn't seem in place with Sarai's idea of faith; she came from a country where it was unlucky to call the god's attention to you. She had always enjoyed her mother's form of worship better than the sitting and the stillness and the prayer that the luarin expected. She never had grown out of her inability to sit still.

They walked up the stairs and entered the building. Sarai took a deep breath as the beautiful smell of fresh flowers and incense filled her nose before her eyes could adjust. The temple was a long hall, with a walkway down the middle that was lined with columns. Along the walls there were stone tables, each with an incense holder, a candlestick or a vase of flowers. They walked between the columns towards the statue at the other end, where the Emperor and Kalasin stood, surrounded by their servants and the temple's caretakers.

Sarai jumped as they passed a column with a rat clinging to the stone halfway up, almost shrieking before she realized that it was carved in stone. Looking around, she noticed dozens more carved along the stonework.

The main statue was of an old woman, most similar to the Goddess's crone, but only in age. This woman had none of the Crone's dignity or harshness – instead the goddess grinned, showing missing teeth. One of her eyes was covered with an eye patch and she had a stoop that seemed capable of folding her in half if she hadn't been leaning on a gnarled stick held in her left hand. In her other hand she had two dice, holding them out as if in invitation to join her game.

Zaimid and Sarai turned before they reached her, leaving the group of worshippers to walk between two pillars and approach a smaller statue of what looked like a large type of dog. A _very_ large dog, with huge shoulders, spotted fur and the deadliest looking jaws Sarai had ever seen.

"What—?"

"It's a hyena," Zaimid said. "They're sacred to the Graveyard Hag."

Sarai turned to look back towards the statue of the Hag, watching her between the pillars, with the nobles of the Empire at her feet. _There's something sly about her that you don't usually get in the gods_, Sarai thought, looking up at her face as Zaimid put his offering of flowers on a stone tray held in the jaws of the strange creature_. She's cheeky._

His offering laid, Zaimid and Sarai walked back towards the walkway, staying back beside the pillars as the royal party left the statue, their offering of flowers left at her feet. Sarai smiled when she saw that the flowers Kalasin had left were the same kind she had picked in the garden during their ride. She curtsied and Zaimid bowed as the group passed by. Kalasin smiled at Sarai and turned to whisper to one of her attendants. The group continued and exited into the bright sunshine at the end of the room.

"The Emperor visits every week because she is the empire's patron?" Sarai asked as they took their turn approaching the statue.

Zaimid laughed. "There is a story to it," he admitted. "She's a Trickster. The Isles and Carthak have that in common," he said, grinning down at her.

Sarai smiled at the statue. She felt some kind of affinity with the old woman, some kind of connection that she couldn't quite place and which slid out of her view when she tried to name it. Zaimid walked up to the statue, kneeling in order to unwrap the gift he had brought as his dedication. Sarai hung back, allowing him his privacy, as well as feeling out of place in the temple of a goddess who was not her own.

"Excuse me, Lady Saraiyu," Sarai turned to face one of Kalasin's attendants. She curtsied. "Our Imperial Empress wishes to invite you to again join her on her ride tomorrow afternoon."

Sarai curtsied in response. "I would be honoured. Please express my thanks."

"Did you enjoy the ride yesterday?" Zaimid asked, coming up behind her as she watched the attendant hurry back outside to her mistress. He surprised her and she jumped, making him grin.

"I did," Sarai answered automatically, before she realized that it was the truth. "The Empress is… more than I expected," she tried to explain, switching topics when she found that she couldn't. "What is the story about the Emperor and the temple?"

Zaimid nodded, taking her arm and walking towards the exit as they spoke. "Seven years ago, representatives from all the Northern lands came to join in peace negotiations with the former Emperor of Carthak, Kaddar's uncle. In the delegation from Tortall there were all sorts of their most famous people, but there was also a commoner girl who was only there to heal the Emperor's birds…"


	8. Chapter 8

"I believe that it is important."

"It is not a good idea, Your Majesty," one of her advisors said, not looking up from his papers.

"We advise against it," said the other, a small smile on his lips.

Kally bit her own lip but didn't sit down. She had presented an appeal to be able to train a small group of women to act as bodyguards for her in situations where men would not be permitted.

Healing in Zaimid's hospital was one of her few joys. She had always had the talent for healing, and under Alanna and Duke Baird's guidance it had become her passion, the way she truly gave back. Here, where her main purpose seemed to be to sit in beautiful clothes and keep her face impassive, it had become the only way she was truly able to help others.

But she could only do so much. As always, she was tied back by the six nobles before her. Their entire purpose seemed to be to deny her. They put this behind pretty words, and hid their opinions behind the vague threat that her actions could bring her husband's hard-won alliance with the Southern states crashing down. As such, she wasn't allowed in the wards where people were taken for broken limbs or bleeding ("Too much violence for a proper lady to be exposed to"), nor with the soldiers ("A noble woman has no place among any of the aspects of war"), and even the quarantine wing was off limits ("Your delicate constitution may suffer, and Carthak needs you healthy in order to bear an heir"). Therefore, the fact that she was not able to enter the women's wing because of her male bodyguards was nearly unbearable. It made her almost useless, especially when Zaimid was strapped for staff and turning injured away.

"They would join my attendants and learn all of the maidenly arts as well as basic combat skills," she continued. "Their training would not have to be apparent – any weapons carried could be concealed, and I would have my male guard at all times except when working with the women in the hospital."

"Your Majesty, you will never find a _proper_ woman in Carthak willing or able to take the training required to guard your person." Kalasin bit her lip at the subtle insult implied.

"Women are meant to be in the home, second to their husbands and mother to their children," the quiet, oldest advisor said. Kally had come to dread the few occasions where he did speak – he was the most staunch believer in the traditional way of life. He made every part of her raised by Thayet, Alanna, and Buri want to scream in frustration. "Women are not able, nor should they, fight."

Kalasin smiled through her anger. "I have known many women capable of putting a lie to those words."

"Perhaps in Tortall women have forgotten the place the gods gave them. But not here."

"My Lords, I am not asking for more than five young women, even my own attendants, capable of being trained in order to accompany me where male guards would be unwise. I do not think –"

"Males are only unpermitted in women's chambers, and you are married. It should not be a concern, Your Imperial Majesty."

_They do not even respect me enough to not interrupt, _Kally thought. _How will I ever get them to accept my authority? _To make it worse, any response would only serve to further the divisions between the south and the Crown. She bit her cheek, nodded to their bows, and led her servants out into the corridor.

"We can cancel your next appointment," one of her attendants whispered.

Kally nodded, smiling shakily. It was too much. She had to get out.

* * *

Sarai arrived at the stables at noon, but the courtyard was empty of activity.

"Excuse me!" Sarai called.

"I'm sorry, Nobility," the stablehand said as he emerged into the sunlight and recognized her. "Her Imperial Majesty has already come and gone."

Sarai pursed her lips. She had been forgotten? How dare – Sarai cut herself off. Of course Kalasin dared. It wasn't a _dare_ at all, for an Empress to cancel an appointment without warning.

"We'll go home," Sarai ordered her servants, controlled and cold.

"Nobility!" The stablehand interrupted, turning from a quick conversation with another groom. "The Empress has gone to the track to ride today. If you wish, we could show you the way."

Sarai thought about it, thought about leaving – well if she wasn't wanted, why not? She took a deep breath, like Dove had always told her to do in the face of insults at home and she smiled her agreement. Perhaps it wasn't to be considered an insult for the Empress to forget an appointment, but if she learned that Sarai had left without attempting to find her… Sarai thought that she didn't know this Empress at all.

They followed the stablehand along a path along the wall of the palace grounds, passing the rest of the stables and the open grounds they used to keep the Court's horses. They rounded a building and Sarai gasped.

There was a dip in the grounds and before her was a large circular track of empty field, around which she could see a horse being run. Zaimid had told her that one of the most popular pastimes of the Court was to keep racing horses, but she had never thought that through to its logical conclusion. Her feet itched to set her horse in motion.

She rode towards the Empress's attendants alone, her guards staying back a respectful distance. As she passed a small outbuilding, the Empress walked her horse right in front of her. They stared at each other for a small moment before Sarai's presence dawned on Kalasin. She raised a hand to cover her mouth.

"Lady Saraiyu, I apologize. I never meant…" Sarai watched in horror as the other woman began to cry.

"I'm sorry!" Kalasin said, turning away to lean on her horse. Without thinking, Sarai quickly dismounted and walked over to the older girl. She placed a comforting hand on Kalasin's shoulder and was surprised when the Empress turned and leaned on her.

Sarai had never had to comfort someone before – Dove was too clearheaded and reserved to get worked up after they were old enough to go without a nurse, and Elsren and Petranne always had Jafana or their mother to comfort them. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around Kalasin's shaking shoulders.

"Shh," she murmured into her black hair, like Dove had done for her when she had a broken heart, or had been slighted, or insulted or overwhelmed. The resemblance to the situation now almost broke her heart with homesickness.

After the quiet sobs faded into sniffles and then into shakes and then to silence, the Empress of Carthak, Kalasin of Conte stepped back and looked at Sarai with red eyes and a blotchy face and she laughed – shaky with self-deprecating humour, but laughter all the same.

"You must think I'm ridiculous," she said, trying to smile. "I'm just so tired."

"Of what?"

"Carthak," Kalasin answered immediately. She then made a face. "No, not with Carthak – not with Kaddar or the people or my responsibilities." She glanced over at the group of her attendants, still maintaining their respectful distance. Sarai followed her gaze – the women were watching them, but the entire episode hadn't lasted even long enough for them to notice their Empress's distress. "I'm tired of pretending, of giving up everything for my husband's country and never feeling like it is_ mine_. I'm tired of giving up the little things I love, this damned heat, the nitpicking, the ridiculous pomp…" Kalasin was still looking away from Sarai, towards her attendants, without seeing them. She looked close to tears again as she finished, biting her lip.

"The uncertainty," Sarai said hesitantly. "Of not knowing where to belong. Of being lonely?"

Kalasin nodded in agreement. Her smile was back. "It seems as if I'm not the only homesick one."

"No, Your Imperial Majesty."

"Please call me Kally, Lady Saraiyu."

"Sarai."

They smiled at each other. Kally shook her head, taking a handkerchief out of a small pouch at her waist. She dabbed at her eyes.

"I let the little things get all built up and then I burst with them," she said.

_As if she's given any time to herself to get over the little things before they become so overwhelming, _Sarai thought_. _Sarai herself could not talk about the little pains with her husband. How would he feel, to know the homesickness and uncertainty and loneliness she was enduring to be with him?

"Aly always said I was too gods-blasted self sacrificing for my own good."

Sarai laughed. "I know an Aly who would say the same thing, although certainly never about me," she said, making Kally laugh. There was a moment of silence before Sarai's eyes were drawn to the track. "You run?"

Kally followed her gaze, nodding when she understood the question. "I was so happy to learn he was building this," she said. "They breed magnificent racers – they're sold all over the empire, and even some places in the north. They use this track to hold races for the court's entertainment, as well as practice their horses," she smiled. "One of the benefits of being an Empress – I can get the use of it when I want. There's no place to run on the grounds, or in the city."

"I know," Sarai said, wincing when she heard the amount of wistfulness that had made its way into her voice.

Kally looked at her knowingly. Her face was back to its pale shade, her deep blue eyes clear. "Of course, none of my attendants would do anything as unladylike as race with me… I would dearly love someone to join me."

Sarai grinned at her. "I would be delighted, Your Majesty."

"I can't promise that you'll ever win." Kally smirked as she jumped on her horse, quick even weighed down and encumbered by her skirts.

Sarai just laughed. She'd win. She always did.


	9. Chapter 9

Sarai didn't win, not every time. Kally surprised the other girl by beating her in almost half of their races. Both of them knew how to ride, how to sit in the saddle, but more than that they both knew how to talk to their horses through the reins and through their bodies. And they both wanted to win, they both wanted the speed.

They ran as often as they could, and explored the city together on other days when Kally could slip away. When on her own, Sarai was almost always bored; she wandered her house, bothered her sister-in-law Mai, and flitted from one small project to the other until Zaimid came home in the evenings and they could share the night together.

Sarai had just fallen into her new life's schedule when a mage's messenger came with news from the Isles. She received him in her sitting room, standing by the window in the sunlight, and her plans and her riding and her joy fell away and she was left with just the numbness. She dropped the glass holding her tea. The sound of it shattering on the stone floor was the same as the feeling in her heart.

Servants leaped forward, but she didn't notice them. One of her guards forced the messenger to leave the room, the maids came forward to take care of the glass and to try to offer her the comfort they could. She couldn't see them. She thought of his tiny hands on her face, his smile, his laughter as she tickled him, the way he smelled when she curled up with him by the fire and she collapsed, sobbing.

"Go away!" she yelled as one of her guards made to catch her. They hovered.

"Go away! Go away! Go away!" she screamed in Kyprish, and they couldn't understand a word, but they quickly left her alone, sitting amongst the broken glass and spilt cranberry tea. It seeped into her light gown, staining the fabric red.

* * *

"You agree!" Kally said. It one of the few occasions that they were working together in one of their private chambers. She had just had the opportunity to tell him the reaction of her advisors to her proposal that she train female guards.

"Kally."

"If you don't think women are equal, how can I ever be your Empress? Your wife? I am not a prize nor a token, _my Lord_. I will not be a pretty statue at your side."

"I do not want to put your safety in the hands of a group of women." He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to argue. "You are my equal in brain and in spirit, Kally, but men are stronger. That is just the way it is."

"Alanna can outfight _any_ man," Kally argued. "You saw Daine outshoot all of your friends! You think any man could best them? They are not some foreign rarity; they are women!"

"_They_ will not be a part of your guard. If they were, I would trust you to them in an instant."

"Their strength is not the exception, Kaddar! All women can have it if they were unfettered! I could find that strength here if I were allowed to look. I'm not asking for women in the army, nor a full guard. All I want is a small group to accompany me into the women's wing of Zaimid's hospital. It's cruel to take this from me!"

"I'm not trying to be cruel."

Kally sighed and willfully let go of her misdirected anger at Kaddar. "I know, I know," she sighed and stepped forward into his arms. "I have been Empress all this time and the counsel has still refused all of my proposals. How can I be Empress if they will not let me?"

"You will win them," Kaddar promised, rubbing her back. "I know you will. You must win them before they will see you as their Empress, but once you do they will stop standing in your way. You just need to find your way of ruling with them."

"Are you sure you can't just order them to listen to me?" she joked.

"If I did that, they would be bowing to my power, not yours."

She sighed into his chest before she leaned away. "I know." She smiled after a moment, and then kissed him lightly. They broke apart to move to their desks where condensed reports were waiting for them to read. At least, Kally was sitting at her desk. _Like a proper person_, she thought. Kaddar was lounging on a long, low couch that had been placed along a wall. Two stacks of papers lay on the ground beside him.

"There are rumours from our spies in the Isles that a rebellion is rising – a serious rebellion that could challenge the Crown," he said after a half hour of silence between them.

"Good," Kally replied without looking up from her report. "The Rittevons should have been thrown out decades ago."

"I hope you're not this direct when you're speaking to your advisors," he said, taking the next paper off his pile and holding it in front of his face.

"No, my Lord." Kally answered, falsely demure. Kaddar threw a pillow at her, which she caught, laughing.

One of their attendants opened the door, bowing deeply. "I beg your Majesties' indulgences, but Lord Raemon is in the waiting room. He claims he carries an urgent message."

Kally and Kaddar exchanged glances. Raemon was in charge of the agents Carthak had in the Isles. Kally set the pillow on her lap, running her hands over the material as Kaddar asked the attendant to invite him into the room.

* * *

Two hours later Zaimid returned from the hospital to find the servants urgently waiting in the entrance hall.

He rushed to the sitting room. Sarai sat on the floor in the dark and he lifted her carefully from the mess and carried her upstairs. He held her in his arms as she sobbed for her brother.


	10. Chapter 10

The assassination – for no one doubted it was an assassination, even before the more detailed reports came from the Isles – left Kally no time to herself. She had taken over many aspects of the running of the Empire in the first year of her marriage and she had reports to read, orders to sign, audiences and meetings to attend.

Three days after the King of the Copper Isles was drowned in a freak storm that was summoned and unleashed by the child's regents, Kally hurried to meet Zaimid for a private audience.

He wasn't dressed for court, and was instead in the clothing he usually wore when he was in the hospital, which was highly unusual – he always separated his court self from his healing, because it was the only time he could afford to do so. Healing had become so much a part of who he was, of what it meant to him to _live_ that he could not shed that way of relating to people unless he was given a role to play. When he was dressed in his finery he donned the persona of a flirt rather than the professional young man Kally had seen in the hospital when she went there to volunteer (and be Kally, the gifted healer, rather than the Empress).

"Zaimid," she said, concerned when she got close enough to see how upset he was. She had worried when her attendants had slipped her the request, but seeing the young man – her first real friend in her new home – on the verge of tears told her just how serious the situation was.

"Leave us," she ordered her attendants and guards. There was a moment of hesitation before they complied. She usually tried not to go against Carthaki customs, and leaving her alone with Zaimid wasn't strictly appropriate, but they followed her orders. Bowing or curtsying, they filed from the room and shut the door behind them.

"Zaimid, what has happened? Where is my husband?"

"I came to speak to you. It's Sarai – she hasn't left her bed in three days."

Kally relaxed slightly. She stepped forward and put her hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Her brother is dead, Zaimid. You must expect –"

"I know! I know about grief, Kally." He looked away. "She won't listen to me, only speaks to ask for dreamrose. Please, Kally. Please go and make her stop. I'm frightened for her."

"Zaimid…"

"Please. I _know_ what I am supposed to do, as her healer, but I cannot. She is my wife, and I cannot see her in such pain."

Kally sighed. "I want to help her. She is my friend, you know. I just need some time to get away from everything here. I'll go to her as soon as I can, I promise."

"Thank you," Zaimid said, bowing his head. Kally hugged him, impulsively. He clung to her.

"She feels everything so strongly," she said over his shoulder. "She cannot help it. It gives her her passion, but it leaves her with sorrow just as deep when she has nothing to occupy herself with. I'll go when I can and see what I can do."

* * *

She couldn't open her eyes, couldn't possibly face the room that reminded her every day that she had left them, that she had refused to be there, that he was _dead_ and his little body was in the ocean and she would never –

She turned on her side, bringing her knees up to her chest. Her stomach rolled and her heart actually hurt and she wished Zaimid was home so she could ask (_beg_) him for something to put her to sleep so she didn't have to think about Elsren anymore.

She wanted Dove and Winna.

She wanted her papa.

* * *

"She's not seeing anyone."

"She'll see _me_."

One of the servants finally recognized who they were barring from their household and he fell to his knees. The others followed suit.

"Please get up," Kally said as patiently as possible. "One of you please show me to your Mistress."

Kally climbed the stairs and entered Sarai's bedchamber, leaving the servants outside the door. She ignored the girl in the bed, moving across the dark room with a determined stride to pull the heavy curtains away from the window, letting in the bright midday sun. Sarai sat up, outraged, but stilled her tongue when she saw who was disturbing her mourning.

"Get up!" Kally called, using the commander bellow she had learned from her mother and aunt. Sarai jumped, but her surprised look settled into stubborn refusal before she was startled out of bed. Kally sighed – she had hoped Sarai would be on her feet before deciding to be difficult.

Kally switched tactics, pulling herself up and putting on her most haughty face. Roald had taught her the trick of imitating their father when they were little, before he had joined the pages and had become self-conscious about being royal. The imitation got a reaction out of all but their closest relatives once Kally had perfected it.

"_Lady_ Sariyu, get up _immediately_. You will ride with me this afternoon and there will be no more of this infernal moping. Now."

Sarai stared her down for only a moment before breaking eye contact and throwing aside the sheets. Kally waited before she was sure Sarai was staying up before she dropped her act and stepped forward and helping the girl put her dress over the shift she had been wearing in bed. They worked in complete silence, Sarai speaking only when Kally made her sit in order to pin her hair under a veil.

"Who are you to force me to do this?"

"I am your _friend._ Your horse is saddled. Come on."


	11. Chapter 11

Sarai rode stiffly, refusing to start a conversation with her royal riding partner, but soon the sunlight and the cool breeze that played on her skin as they rode along the harbour improved her mood and lightened her despair. The crowds and scenery gave her something besides her memory to concentrate on. After a small while she began a grudging, inconsequential conversation which Kally responded to enthusiastically and as they rode and talked it was as if the past few days had not occurred, except that there was a tiny ache in her heart that would not leave even as she turned away from it.

They rode to the hospital to visit Zaimid and Sarai lost the remains of her grudge over the abduction when she saw her husband's relief and realized the pain she had caused him. They visited only a short time – Kally could not be borrowed from the palace for too long – and then they continued their ride towards Sarai's apartments.

"I will keep you as informed as I can about what is going on in the Isles, I promise."

Sarai nodded and curtsied deep, watching her friend ride away before turning and leading her guards back into the apartment. She bit her lip as she took the veil off in the greeting room. What else could possibly happen?

A week passed slowly. News came to Sarai from the palace in Kally's handwriting. There were no real specifics and Sarai did not think of the limitations her friend had been put under by Kaddar and their intelligence councillors in order for them to agree to sending information to a national of the Copper Isles, a member of the royal family. Sarai read about the uprisings on plantations, a riot in Rajmuat and the condemnation of the regents by the Eastern powers. She worried.

She sat and watched the street. She paced in her bedchamber. She helped her mother-in-law embroider until she couldn't stand it anymore, and the stern old woman allowed her to throw down her work without admonishment and Zaimid's youngest sister took her into the garden to work together.

She was hardly helpful, even less so than useful. Mai talked to keep Sarai distracted but she, more often than not, ignored the girl completely, staring into space and jumping up in anticipation that Zaimid, Kally, or a messenger would arrive with every sound.

Kally was not able to see Sarai again until after the reports sent news that the end had come, but she sent news as soon as the outside world realized that the coup was over to tell her that her little sister, barely fourteen, was being announced as the new queen of the now named Kyprish Isles.


	12. Chapter 12

They were sitting in Sarai's garden, nearly three weeks later, when they actually had the time and privacy to speak about what had happened, the costs of the coup, and what Sarai's little sister's government was going to do now.

Sarai had gotten letters from her stepmother and her sister in the meantime. There was pain there, joining Elsren in her heart when she heard of those they had lost, people she had known her entire life. There was a little bit of relief that Dove had been the one to stay (what would Sarai do with a war-torn country? She could hardly even manage her new household without her mother- and sister-in-law), but more than all that there was guilt. Guilt that she wasn't there for them, guilt that she was happy Dove had to be the Queen Twice Royal when it was supposed to be her, guilt for Elsren and her father and all the raka and even Bronau, although it made her furious to feel _that_.

She and Kally sat in the garden, glasses of wine sitting between them and being refilled just a touch more often than was proper, and Sarai admitted all this in a rush to the quiet Empress.

"These things… They are not your fault, you know," Kally said, after a moment of silence in which Sarai trembled her glass to her lips.

Sarai took a shaky breath. "If it weren't for me, Bronau would not have been there. He was there because I went with his advances. I encouraged him. And he killed my father in order to take me." Sarai looked down, her black lashes covering her eyes. Tears fell onto her lap, darkening the blue cloth of her dress. She ran her fingers lightly over the marks as she continued.

"He thought my swordplay was a joke. That it was _cute_," she spat the word. "And he was right. What good did it do? My father still died in front of me. And then I ran away and Elsren… I failed them. Every way I turn I fail them."

"Listen to me, Saraiyu." Kally said, leaning forward, the fierceness of her tone catching Sarai's full attention and holding it. "These deaths – the deaths in your family – they were not caused by you. Only the gods can see the ultimate consequences of our actions. _Bronau_ killed your father. Those vultures on the throne killed your brother. Good people are the ones who try to find fault in themselves when bad people cause harm.

"A wise woman once told me to not let the bad people make me doubt. Blaming yourself is only going to lead to your destruction. Don't let Bronau take away your sword hand. Don't let the actions of the bad people paralyze you."

They sat quietly, each lost in thought. A small brightly coloured bird landed on a branch nearby, and the two women watched as it sang and was joined by a female pair a short while after.

"Have you been given permission for your guard?" Sarai asked after a moment, not looking away from the birds.

"I haven't asked again," Kally admitted. She would like to say it was only because of the events in the Isles, but it would be a lie. She would rather not ask then deal with the disappointment another denial would give her.

"You should," Sarai said quietly. She turned her dark eyes towards her friend. "You have my sword, Kally."

Kally blinked hard at the pledge.

Sarai waited in the silence for a moment. "You know," she said, awkward. "If you want it."

Kally laughed. "Yes, yes I do. Thank you, Sarai."

Kally didn't know when it would happen, when the council would have enough faith in her to accept her decisions, but the day would come. And it was good to know she would have someone waiting for her when it did.

"It's more difficult than I would have imagined, even though I grew up watching my parents rule their country," she said. "I suppose it was easier because they already had their power, even if they had to deal with the conservatives or the Bazhir's disagreements." She laughed slightly. "I thought I could handle anything that was thrown at me. My marriage worried me far more than my title did, but now… My cousin Aly, she would be able to understand all of this. And she would have those counsellors eating out of her hand, believe me! She's incredibly clever."

Something about that struck a chord with Sarai. _Clever._

"She could always take the most difficult troubles or problems and solve them before anyone else, even when she was younger than all of us," Kally smiled. "It drove us all mad because she wouldn't shut up about it afterwards. Five years old and… What?"

"Aly is your cousin?"

Kally shook her head. "Alianne of Pirate's Swoop – the Lioness's daughter. We grew up together, though. Practically."

"Describe her to me."

"Pale, green-hazel eyes, strawberry blonde hair. Quite pretty; she always had a boy when she wanted one, although she looks absolutely wicked with her crooked smile– Sarai!"

Kally hurried over to the other girl, who had fallen onto her chair, choking. As she reached her, Kally realized that it was laughter.

* * *

A/N And that is the end. I realise that it ends on a rather odd note. I knew this when I wrote it, but I do have a reason behind it. Well, as much as I ever have reasons. The idea is that nothing gets resolved overnight. If I were to write until Sarai was part of her guard, it would be a long, tedious story. She has promised herself to her, and that is enough for now. This story wasn't so much about resolving all the troubles they were having, but about the friendship between them that gets them through it. Same with why I didn't write the full scene of them talking about Aly. You get to decide what they talk about and how she is remembered, because the actual conversation was just never very entertaining when I wrote it.

So, tell me if you liked it, tell me if you hated it. Perhaps Sarai and Kally will reappear in future stories of mine and more of this will be explored... I also think an epilogue could be put into the works if you have specific things you really wanted to see. But overall I am happy with how this showed a glimpse of their lives and the hints of connections between them, so you'll have to make a good case! XD Thanks, as always, to my lovely betas. And thanks to all of my readers (yes, you, lurking there) and reviewers.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N As promised, and by popular demand, an epilogue to A Mutual Acquaintance. It is, seriously, done now. Thank you to all of my reviewers and to Sweet Sassy Sarah and LunaSphere for betaing.

* * *

Sarai stood by the railing, unaware of the picture she made. Her dark hair was struggling out of its ties in order to fly free in the sea breeze, shining in the sunlight that glinted off the waves. The same sun made her copper skin glow as she closed her eyes against the spray and relaxed on her arms against the railing, enjoying the calmer seas after a rough week's travel from Carthak.

They were sailing into the Rajmuat port now, but Sarai kept her eyes shut to the beauty of the Copper Isle's capital. She had seen it before and it had always meant 'home'. Would it be different now that it belonged to all of her – to the raka and the luarin? Would it be different now that she had left her home behind in Carthak?

She couldn't resist, regardless, and opened her eyes, drinking in the familiar sight of the city where she had grown up. It was bittersweet, this homecoming that was not a homecoming at all. Sarai mulled as the sailors worked around her to bring them into the harbour safely.

One of the sailors got her attention, bringing her out of her thoughts as he bowed. She followed him to the small boat that would take her ashore. She would not deny that she was excited, more than excited, to see her sisters and Winnamine again, but everything would be different than it was when she had left. _She _had expected to be the one to make the changes, not the other way around. She tapped out a rhythm on the boat's edge, watching the city get closer as they rowed.

She used the tapping fingers to grip the side as they hit the harbour's dock, holding herself steady as they swayed, trapped by ropes tossed between the boat and the shore and unable to follow the sea's rhythm any longer. Sarai nodded graciously as she took an offered hand and was pulled up, another first step onto her native land, where she was now a visitor. She wondered if Kally ever felt this confused.

_I should think myself lucky_, she thought. Empress Kalasin, after all, would be unlikely to go home again and ever face these confusing feelings. Kally, tied to her throne and the security the palace offered would probably never again venture across the Great Inland Sea to Tortall. Sarai took another hand, this time of a palace guard, and was helped into a royal carriage. She would get to see her family, and would forget that it was only for a time. _Be grateful, Sarai._

She had expected Rajmuat to look different, and it did. But mostly it didn't. They were the same faces, the same transactions. Raka servants still bought goods from luarin merchants for their luarin masters. There were building burned and there were statues down but business went on just as she had always remembered and she wondered if anything had changed at all.

And then she thought of Dove, sweet sensible Dove, and all the choices she must be making. _I would have been a very bad choice for queen, indeed,_ Sarai thought.

The palace was _not _how she remembered, and she was afforded only momentary glimpses of repaired walls and gates, reorganized gardens and a boarded up balcony before she was ushered into the guest wing, her bags carried around her like a choreographed dance as she walked up the steps and into the cool of the hallway.

"If my Lady will follow me to her rooms?"

Sarai frowned at the woman who tried to lead her down a hallway. "I wish to see my family."

"Of course," the woman smiled. "After you freshen up, of course, my Lady."

Sarai touched a hand to her hair and frowned. She had gotten away with herself. She was not going to be presented to the queen (the queen, not Dove – the _queen_) just off a ship, her hair windswept and her travel-clothes wrinkled. This was neither a country estate nor their city manor. She tried hard not to grumble as she followed the servant woman through the hallways and to a closed door which the young part-luarin woman unlocked and flung wide.

The blinds inside were opened on the wide windows and double doors and Sarai blinked against the sudden light.

"She's here, Duani," the servant said.

Sarai blinked again to find Aly sitting on one of the long couches in her room. She stood as Sarai took a step towards her.

"Hello, Lady Sarai," Aly said, dipping a curtsy. "I trust your travels were pleasant?"

"Oh, we have to talk." Sarai's dark eyes flashed.

* * *

_Kally had rushed over to reach Sarai, who tried to catch her breath, leaning against the back of her chair._

"_What is so funny?" Kally asked, staring down at her friend, who could barely breathe let alone answer the question. Kally glanced at her friend's cup of wine, picking it up subtlety and moving it away from Sarai's seat, which only made the other woman laugh harder. After a moment, she was able to explain just why the description of Kally's cousin – the Lioness's daughter – was enough to make her laugh._

"_That certainly _sounds _like the Aly I know," Kally said, laughing herself as they talked about Aly's arrival and their exploits in the country. "But I do not understand what she would be doing there... as a _slave_. What could she have been thinking?"_

"_She told us she was a servant of Mithros."_

_Kally's mouth twitched. "She just _would_ draw that kind of attention." _

"_This is too bizarre," Sarai said, taking another drink of wine._

_Kally just smiled, her lips against her glass. If anyone would be the one to end up hiding as a slave in another country, in the employ of the gods and somehow involved in a rebellion, it was the Lioness's rebellious daughter. She was suddenly quite happy she had been in Carthak for that entire episode. She could just imagine the chaos that had erupted when Aunt Alanna had found out._

* * *

They sat together on the couches alone, Aly nonchalantly picking at embroidery as Sarai stared at the girl she had thought she knew.

"Kyprioth?"

Aly nodded, her smile small and knowing.

"And you're the Lioness's daughter and... and a noble in Tortall and..." She trailed off and Aly nodded again. Sarai shook her head. "You're an ass for fooling me."

Aly laughed out loud, which Sarai joined in, reluctantly. She had only been half kidding.

"It was only supposed to be for the summer," the former slave said, tilting her head to one side in a way she surely learned from her new husband. "Can you blame me for being tricked by the god of tricksters?"

"No," Sarai said, ruefully. "But I still feel silly for bossing you around for all those months."

Aly laughed again, and then stood and stretched. Her hair was long, now, and glinted red and bright gold in the sunlight. Sarai hadn't noticed her belly until they had gone to sit down, but stretching like she was, Aly's bump was evident under her clothes. _She doesn't stand like a servant, anymore_, Sarai realized. But neither did she stand like a noble. Sarai suspected that if she were to ask just what Aly's job was in the palace now that she would agree Aly stood just as one of those were supposed to stand. She wondered who the real Aly was.

"Kally says 'Hello'," Sarai said. A ghost of a flash of homesickness passed along Aly's face and she smiled a true smile – not a grin meant to distract or a smirk to seduce. Sarai nodded, content.

"You should get ready. Dove and Winnamine will be waiting in Her Majesty's rooms for you in five minutes," Aly said. Sarai rolled her eyes slightly, acknowledging another point for Aly, that she was able to orchestrate the entire conversation to such perfect timing. "Good day, Lady Saraiyu."

Sarai matched her curtsy.

"And to you, Lady Alianne."

They grinned and then Sarai was left alone to the sunlight, without even a click of the lock to mark Aly's exit. She closed her eyes in the sunlight as a slight breeze shifted the curtains and the strands of loose hair around her face.


End file.
